


let me tend to your campfire (so you can keep warm tonight)

by earlgrey_milktea



Series: as long as you stand by me (ffxv works) [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Banter, Campfires, Family Feels, Fluff, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Light Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Tumblr: ffxvweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-15 01:53:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11795997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgrey_milktea/pseuds/earlgrey_milktea
Summary: after all is said and done and all the battles are fought and finished, what he'll remember the most are the nights around the campfire. nights like these, noctis thinks, is what he'll miss most.





	let me tend to your campfire (so you can keep warm tonight)

**Author's Note:**

> _for ffxvweek 4_  
>  day one - **frozen in time**
> 
> *this fic does sort of include/allude to canon end, so uh. yeah. heads up

“There’s beans in this,” Noctis complains.

“You better finish that plate, Noct,” Ignis says from across the campfire.

Noctis makes a face. “You know I hate beans.”

“I feel the same about not being able to take a shower every night, but you don’t hear me complaining.”

“Yes, we do,” Gladio says.

Ignis frowns in his direction, but refrains from retorting.

Prompto points at Noctis with his fork. “Dude, if you close your eyes and pinch your nose, you won’t even know they’re beans.”

Noctis looks at him flatly. He scoops up a forkful of beans, and flicks it towards Prompto. There’s a beat, where they all stare at the dark blob slowly sliding down Prompto’s shirt.

Slowly, Prompto raises his head and locks eyes with Noctis. “You’re on,” Prompto says.

“Oh, for Astrals’ sake,” Ignis mutters as Prompto immediately launches his own food back. Gladio just shuffles backwards out of the crossfire, still eating cheerfully.

They end up wrestling on the ground, beans and rice in their hair, much to Ignis’ dismay. He lifts their plates out of reach at one point, but he doesn’t bother breaking them up. Noctis rolls his weight onto Prompto and effectively pins down his best friend, who yelps and jabs his fingers into Noctis’ side in retaliation.

“Neither of you are entering the tent like that,” Ignis says.

Prompto kicks Noctis. “You’re a bad influence, Noct.”

Noctis just throws his head back and laughs.

 

 

 

 

It’s cold tonight. The stars are nowhere to be found, and this haven is too high up for trees to provide cover. Noctis grips his arms and stares into the flames.

They ran into three Magitek airships today. That’s... quite a lot. It’s not that they aren’t used to this, but the fact that they are makes Noctis tired. It’s a bone-deep weariness, heavier than the always-there ache he’s learned to ignore on good days and grit his teeth and bear through it on bad days. He has a new bandage on his arm from where an MT grazed his skin in the last battle.

But that’s nothing compared to Ignis. He’s sleeping now, chest rising and falling steadily next to Prompto in the tent, but gods.

Noctis closes his eyes briefly. One of the logs in the campfire falls, and a spark jumps towards where he sits. He’s probably sitting too close. Ignis would scold him, if he was awake.

“Hey.”

Noctis looks up to find Gladio’s head sticking out of the tent. He’s squinting at Noctis, and the fire throws shadows across his friend’s face, making him look much older than he is.

“Hey, yourself,” Noctis says.

“Not sleeping tonight?”

Noctis shrugs.

Gladio climbs out of the tent. He settles down next to Noctis, and instantly Noctis feels warmer than he has since they made camp.

“Iggy’s fine,” Gladio says.

“I know,” Noctis replies.

“We’ll be more careful.”

“Yeah.”

Gladio sighs. His hand comes up to pat Noctis’ shoulder, a grounding pressure. He stays there for a moment more, and then he pulls away. “Don’t stay up too late, okay? I need you to buffer between me and Prompto’s octopus limbs.”

Noctis nods. He listens to Gladio shuffling back into the tent. Then he lays his head on his knees and closes his eyes, with only the sound of the flames to keep him company.

 

 

 

 

“Dinner is served,” Gladio declares. He slaps down four cup noodles with a proud tilt of his chin.

Prompto cheers. Noctis rolls his eyes. Ignis just sighs.

“We should pick up more hunts,” Ignis says, staring into his cup of noodles.

“Why, I think we could survive off this,” Gladio says, already slurping away.

“You could, maybe,” Ignis retorts.

Prompto wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I have to agree with Iggy. All this salt isn’t good for our bodies.”

“Wow,” Noctis deadpans. “Never thought I’d see the day when Prompto makes more sense than Gladio.”

“Excuse me,” Prompto says, “I have my moments.”

“You sure do.”

Noctis swirls his noodles, watching Ignis and Gladio bicker across the fire, while Prompto taps away on his phone beside him. It’s warm, his belly is on his way to full, and he’s with his bestest friends in all of Eos. Noctis hides a smile into his cup, and welcomes the drowsy contentment spreading through his body.

 

 

 

 

It’s dark when Noctis wakes up. He remembers settling down into his chair after dinner, listening to Gladio cracking a horrible dirty joke and Prompto laughing so hard he snorted, and then he must have drifted off. He’s been falling asleep too easily these days.

The tent’s flap is closed, and he can hear Gladio’s thunderous snores coming from inside it. The fire’s smaller now, the low light casting dancing shadows against the tent.

“If you’re tired, you should sleep in the tent,” Ignis says.

Noctis glances over to where the other man is going over their inventory. He’s packing up their curatives in a meticulous and organized manner.

“Aren’t you tired?” Noctis says.

Ignis hums. “I’ll go to bed after I clean up.”

Noctis stretches. There’s a kink in his neck, and his back kind of hurts from being slumped over in his seat, but it’s not too bad. He could have been rendered immobile with agony. It’s happened before.

“Do you need help?”

Ignis blinks at him. “If you don’t mind,” he says.

Noctis sits cross-legged beside him. He gathers the things Ignis tells him to, and suggests which ones to keep in the armiger. He’s tired, but he likes the sense of tranquility to this moment. He doesn’t want to think about the abandoned towns they came across today. He doesn't want to think about the growing pressure in the back of his head as the days pass. He just wants to sit here, basking in the soothing presence of his friend in the low light of the campfire, and pretend that they have all the time in the universe.

 

 

 

 

“Noct, I can see you passing your vegetables off to your bird,” Ignis calls disapprovingly from where he’s washing up the empty plates.

“Well, at least it’s not going to waste.”

“Those vegetables are for your own good.”

“Do you think if you feed the chocobos too many vegetables they might grow too fat to move?” Prompto questions.

Gladio snorts. “That’s not how it works, chocobo butt.”

Prompto squeaks indignantly, while Noctis slips another leafy green thing to his bird. The chocobo curls up behind him by the campfire, feathers ruffling happily.

“Hey, Noct,” Prompto says, “look this way.”

Noctis does, and blinks when there’s a flash. His chocobo squawks and scuffs his head with a wing.

“Oops,” says Prompto, fiddling with his camera. “Didn’t mean to startle the bird, sorry.”

“Are you only apologizing to the bird?”

“You’ll live.”

Noctis rolls his eyes. He waves a hand when Prompto holds up the camera again. His butt kind of hurts, sitting on the ground like this, but the chocobo is warm against his back so he’s not complaining. He leans back against the bird, and considers the pros and cons of falling asleep right here.

Something ruffles his hair, and Noctis tilts his head to meet the unblinking gaze of his chocobo. She leans forward and nudges him gently. He reaches up and strokes her behind her head.

Curled up beside his chocobo, Noctis yawns. He glances over to where Gladio and Ignis are indulging Prompto with another of his little impromptu photoshoots, and smiles quietly to himself. He yawns again, settling back against soft feathers, and allows the sound of his friends’ murmurs and laughter over the steady crackle of the campfire to lull him to sleep.

 

 

 

 

Noctis isn’t sure what wakes him at first. He blinks, slowly realizing he’s staring at Prompto’s abandoned sleeping bag. Ignis and Gladio are still fast asleep on either side of the tent.

As quietly as he can, Noctis crawls through the flap and finds his best friend huddled next to the campfire. He drops to the ground next to Prompto.

“Noct,” Prompto says, surprised. “Did I wake you?”

“Nah,” Noctis yawns. He props his elbow on his knee and rests his chin on his palm. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, really,” says Prompto. He looks back down at his lap, where his camera rests. “Just looking through the pictures.”

Noctis hums. The flames bathe Prompto in a warm, orange glow, illuminating every freckle and every new scar he’s gained from their weeks of endless enemy confrontations and hunts. Noctis can barely remember what Prompto looked like before. Younger. Brighter.

“Any interesting shots?” he asks.

Prompto shrugs. He flicks through the camera, a small frown tugging his lips downwards.

Noctis nudges him with his shoulder. “We passed by a lake last time we came through here. Wanna go for a photo op tomorrow morning?”

“You sure you don’t just want an excuse to go fishing?”

“I don’t see why we can’t do both.”

Prompto huffs out a laugh. He nudges Noctis back, but keeps his shoulder pressed against Noctis. “Yeah,” he says. “Let’s do that.”

“Cool. Now show me the stupid photos you took of Gladio’s ass. I know you have them.”

“Dude, that was one time!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the end, Noctis goes back to the campfire.

It’s almost out, only the glowing embers telling signs of life. The tent’s erected but he knows it’s empty. The chairs are still out but there is nobody to claim them. There’s a cooler by the tent, once upon a time filled with long cans of Ebony and bottles of beer and glasses of that lemonade-like soda Prompto likes so much.

The haven is quiet, not even the popping of burning wood to keep him company now.

Noctis sits in his chair for a long time. The stars are fading in the skies above, and the night breeze brushes through his hair like a whisper he can’t quite make out. He doesn’t feel it. He doesn’t feel much, anymore.

If he closes his eyes, he can see them. He can still see Ignis standing by his little portable makeshift kitchen, testing spices and coming up with new recipes on the spot. He can still see Gladio doing one-hand pushups by the light of the fire, tireless and steady. He can still see Prompto sprawled by his feet, tapping away on his phone and crowing when he beats Noctis at King’s Knight.

If he closes his eyes, he can pretend he’s still there, they’re still there, with him, suspended in those moments ‘round the campfire where everything’s fine and they’re alive and well and together, even just for one night more.

When Noctis opens his eyes, he sees the first rays of sunlight kissing the horizon. He stands, says a silent good morning to each of his friends, his brothers. He doesn’t look back as he leaves.

With dawn at his back, Noctis walks tall into the night.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i hope this still fits the prompt lmao anyway i can't look at a campfire ever again without bursting into tears i hate this game i've gone through so many boxes of tissues because of it
> 
> come cry with me about these kids and how they deserved better @puddingcatbae on tumblr + twitter


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